Letting my feelings go
by dReAmY92
Summary: Rose Weasley has her emotions all over the place causing her mother to get so fed up that she presents her with a diary in order to help her deal with her problems. Throughout the story you'll witness Rose’s frustrations with her life and a certain blond.


**A/N: This is the edited version of the first chapter of Letting all my feelings go. Kudos to my beta CoverGirlInLove,** **you're the best** **:)  
Anyway, enjoy, read and review. **

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**Hey silly book!

My mom said it's crucial that I deal with my emotions in a healthy way, so she presented you to me as a way of accomplishing that.

Well, I guess an introduction is in order. My name is Rose Weasley – this is the part where I give you two minutes to squeal about my parents, uncles, and extremely hot cousins – and I'm about to enter my fifth year at Hogwarts, which means I'm 14 going on 15 – October 9th to be exact.

Yes, I am THE Rose Weasley, member of the famous Weasley bunch.

Yes, my mother is Hermione Weasley, and yeah, her maiden name is Granger.

Yes, she was, and still is, the brightest witch of her generation.

Yep she did marry Ron Weasley, and, yes, they both helped to defeat Voldemort, way back when, blah, blah, blah ... You get the drill…

I wish people would get over that already.

I get the fact that my parents, and Uncle Harry, did save the Wizarding World, and I'm not ungrateful for that, because what they did was really important. I respect that, really, I do, but I'm starting to become fed up with being acknowledged only as the first born of two members of the Golden Trio.

Having inherited the famous Weasley temper, as well as my mother's untamable hair, isn't helping the situation much, either.

Let's get one thing straight from the start. I am not in any way, shape, or form, perfect.

I do not obtain a perfect record at school, nor am I obsessed with rules and my studies. I simply don't care that much about school and the grades I keep.

When you think about it, I'm really more of my father's daughter than my mother's, even though everyone insists on comparing me to her.

The physical resemblance is there, that, I'll admit. I have bushy brown hair with slight traces of red, complimentary of my dad.

I have also inherited the long front teeth my mom was well known for in her younger years, that is, until she got Madam Pomfrey to shrink them. She has since made me wear braces, which I find very hypocritical of her, don't you think? Because of this, I was, and to my chagrin, still am, referred to as Bunny, or different abbreviations of it: Bun, Bu, Ny, BN ... you name it, my crazy cousins thought of it first.

I'm also rather tall for a girl, though shorter than Hugo – he's my little brother. He is 5 inches taller than I am, despite being 2 years younger – I'm 5'6.

Since this summer, some boys have started noticing me, stating that I've become quite curvy, but I haven't really taken note, nor do I care.

My complexion is rather pale, and I'm freckle free, thanks to mom. Unfortunately, I did inherit the Weasley blush, and thanks to that little attribute, I can't lie to save my life.

Older people regard to me as a replica of my mom, since I'm physically almost the same as her. In fact, my uncle George once started voicing his opinion about newer models and improvements, but Aunt Angie quickly shushed him before my mom heard; it was quite amusing actually.

My eyes are the exception. They are a clear blue color, much brighter than my dad's. Uncle Harry often says they remind him of Dumbledore's, including the twinkle and everything. Let me tell you, when Al heard that, he wouldn't speak with me for four days. Quite a temper that one has.

On the inside though, I'm almost all dad. I got his temper as well as his "twisted sense of humor" as it is often referred to in our household. The one thing, that I'm most proud of inheriting, are definitely his chess abilities.

I'm still the only one in our family that has actually beaten my dad in chess, fair and square, and that was one of my proudest moments. I was nine at the time, you see.

The main reason my mom gave you to me, are the mood swings that I often acquire.

You see, during the past year, I've become really resentful of everything my cousins have done, and given the number of cousins I have, it's safe to say I'm bordering madness here! The Marauders Volume 2, as they are fond of calling themselves, especially get on my nerves for some unknown reason, and no, it's not because they befriended a certain blond specimen.

On September 1st of my forth year in Hogwarts, when my cousins Louis, Fred and James, alongside Scorpius of course, pulled their annual "start of the year" prank. I got so mad that I actually wrote to my Aunts Fleur, Angie and Ginny demanding that they received some sort of punishment, and by that, ensured that they got Howlers.

Not one of them would speak with me for full two weeks after that incident, even though I apologized profusely for overreacting.

Merlin boys can be such girls at times.

Since then, my emotions have been all over the place. Hence, my mom's genius plan of giving you to me.

Any little thing can get me significantly worked up resulting in various shouting and/or hexing debacles. This is even more certain, when the said thing is tall, pale, blond, and has that oh-so-annoying smirk always plastered on his face.

Yep, you guessed it. It's a Malfoy.

Oh, the thrills of being stupidly enamored with a womanizing prankster, who also happens to be in very good terms with your stupid, stupid cousins, are just non-ending. Wouldn't grandpa Weasley be proud …? Not to talk about my dad …

Ugh, I hate my life!


End file.
